you're the closest to heaven that i'll ever be
by sodium-amytal
Summary: "What if I never find someone?" Chandler asks, incredulous, and it breaks Joey's heart to hear that he honestly thinks he'll end up alone. Joey can't be the only one who finds Chandler ridiculously endearing; he can't be. S2. Based off of Chandler's storyline in 2.03.


Joey finds Chandler on the couch in Mr. Heckles' apartment, wearing one of the guy's old robes and flipping through his yearbook like he's conducting some sort of séance.

"Have you been here all night?" Joey isn't sure he wants an answer to that question, but, fuck it, it's already left his mouth.

Chandler looks up at him and beckons him closer. "Look at this," he says, vicariously confirming that, yes, he's totally been here all night; Joey worries that Chandler may never be a well-adjusted, properly-functioning adult, but if he's honest that kind of charms him a little. "Pictures of all the women Heckles went out with. Look what he wrote on them."

Joey's tempted to sigh and distract him with breakfast, but he doesn't get the chance, because Chandler's handing him photos to sift through. Joey does manage a small sigh.

Chandler doesn't seem to hear it though. "Vivian: too tall. Madge: big gums. Too loud, too smart, makes noise when she eats. This is—this is me. This is what I do. I'm gonna end up alone, just like he did."

Joey rolls his eyes, shoves the pictures into the crease of the book. "Chandler, Heckles was a nut-case."

"Our trains are on the same track, okay?" Chandler says sharply, setting the yearbook on the couch before he stands up to pace the floor. "Yeah, sure, I'm coming up thirty years behind him, but the stops are all the same: Bitter Town. Aloneville. Hermit Junction!"

Joey pushes a hand through his hair, because as much as he likes Chandler his histrionics really stress him out. "Alright, y'know what we gotta do? We gotta get you outta here. C'mon, I'll buy you breakfast. Let's go."

"What if I never find someone?" Chandler asks, incredulous, and it breaks Joey's heart to hear that he honestly thinks he'll end up alone. "Or worse, what if I've found her, but I dumped her because she pronounced it 'supposably'?"

Joey swallows back the lump in his throat, says, "Chandler, c'mon, you're gonna find somebody." Joey can't be the only one who finds Chandler ridiculously endearing; he _can't_ be.

"How do you know that? How?"

"I dunno, I'm just tryin' to help you out." Chandler's staring him down pretty intensely; Joey rubs the back of his neck and looks away.

"You'll see, you guys are all gonna go off and get married, and I'm gonna end up alone. Will you promise me something? When you're married, will you invite me over for holidays?"

Joey wants to do something stupid and reckless, like grabbing Chandler's face in his hands and kissing him until he gets it through his thick fucking skull that he's not going to end up alone because he'll always have Joey. Instead, he mumbles, "I was kinda hopin' I wouldn't have to." Chandler's expression crumbles in heartache, and Joey continues. "I—I mean, you usually don't have to invite the person you marry, y'know?"

Chandler flinches like Joey's just slapped him. "Get out."

Joey's never been rejected so viciously. He feels the sting of it deep in his chest. "Look, I'm just—I'm just sayin', you got options, okay?"

"I don't _want_ options! Not like that! And I definitely don't need your pity!"

That stops him, slows his thought processes a bit. "Is that what you think this is?" Joey asks, studying Chandler's face. "I'm askin' you out 'cause I _pity_ you? Or is this some weird thing about your dad?"

Chandler jolts at the words, his jaw clenched tight. "Fuck you." He storms across the floor to leave, but Joey grabs his sleeve to stop him.

"Chandler, wait. C'mon, just—just one date, okay?" Joey has never had to beg for a date in his goddamn life. This must be what it feels like to be Chandler. "One date, and we don't have to do anything you don't wanna do. You can pick the time, the place, whatever; I'll pay for everything. If you don't feel like we could make this work, then that's okay. I won't mention it again. But you can't just write me off without even givin' this a try," he pleads, hating how sleazy and manipulative this sounds. He's never pushed this hard with anyone, never veered into "overzealous creep" territory. Joey tastes disgust in the back of his throat. "You got somebody better on speed-dial?"

"Maybe I do!" Chandler shoots back, but all the heat is gone. His mouth's curled into a cute little scowl.

"Who, Janice? The woman you've broken up with three times already?"

Chandler's face goes through a complicated series of emotions before settling back to his earlier scrunchy-frowny expression.

"Just gimme a chance. You don't have to end up alone."

Chandler's mouth is a hard line before he mumbles out, "But—but I'm not gay."

"Neither am I." Joey shrugs.

"I don't—I don't like men."

"I dunno if I do either. But I like you." Joey fixes Chandler with a long look, but Chandler glances away almost immediately. He fidgets, does that thing with his mouth again before pulling the door open and leaving Joey alone.

#

Chandler doesn't know how Joey does it, how he digs deep under his skin and stays there like a persistent itch just beneath the surface. He doesn't know why he's actually considering going on this stupid date with Joey. Apparently his life is just that sad—but what's sadder is that he doesn't know if he'd rather be alone than be with Joey.

It's not like there's anything _wrong_ with Joey. He's not bad-looking, he's a pretty good cook, he's kind and loving, and he makes Chandler happy. But...

Joey knows enough to keep his distance for a while, so Chandler has the apartment to himself to rest his bleary eyes. He crosses the hall around noon and finds Rachel and Monica in their apartment. Monica's frowning pretty intensely at a seashell lamp on the endtable. "Is Joey here?" Chandler asks in a whisper.

"No, he's downstairs with Pheebs and Ross," Rachel says before turning to Monica. "Monica, will you just let it go!"

Monica scowls at her. "Did you know I was allergic to shellfish?"

"Well, then you'll just have to eat the other lamps."

Chandler wonders if they know he's still here. He clears his throat a little too loudly. The girls turn their heads to look at him. "Joey's downstairs," they say in near-unison.

Chandler throws them a bitchface. "I'm not looking for Joey. I need to ask you guys something."

Their eyes go wide in surprise, and they trade confused looks before sitting on the couch. "What is it?" Monica asks.

Chandler steps closer and collapses into the chair on their left. The throw draped over the top of the chair slides into his lap. He fidgets with his hands while he debates how to word this. But he figures he might as well just come out and say it. "Would you go out with someone you never really thought about dating before? Like, if they asked you out?"

"It really depends on the person," Monica answers after a moment of thought. "But I probably wouldn't say no to a cup of coffee or something."

Chandler scratches the back of his neck. He wishes he was better at explaining this, but he has a pressing need to be vague about it.

"Well, I never really thought about going out with Ross until you told me he was in love with me," Rachel says rather accusingly. "And I think—I think it would be good, y'know? We already know each other pretty well—"

"It's like starting on the fifteenth date!" Monica adds.

Rachel nods, and her smile fades. "But he's with Julie now, so..." She shrugs her shoulders in a way that makes her look vulnerable. She focuses on Chandler again. "Are you—are you attracted to her?"

"Julie?"

Rachel rolls her eyes in a way that Chandler just knows she learned from Monica. "No, the girl who asked you out."

Chandler smirks dryly to himself. Of fucking course they'd assume it's a girl; Chandler would never have considered going out with another guy until Joey put questions marks all over everything. "I don't know. I've never—I've never really looked at her that way before. I guess it wouldn't be too bad, but..." He toys with the satin edges of the throw. "I don't wanna ruin the friendship."

"If she asked you out, I think she's able to handle that kind of rejection," Monica says. "I think you should go for it. Just be open-minded, and you might be pleasantly surprised."

So, this is actually happening? Chandler's actually going on a date with Joey?

He has no excuse for this; this is a thing he's choosing to do _voluntarily_.

Chandler kind of hates his life.

#

Joey shows up at their apartment later that afternoon, meekly walking past Chandler to his bedroom.

"Not so fast, Joe," Chandler warns, and Joey freezes mid-step, turning his head to look over at Chandler, who's sitting in one of the chairs facing the TV.

Joey wobbles for balance and sets his other foot down on the floor. "Look, Chandler, I'm sorry—I was outta line, okay? I shouldn't have said any of that stuff."

One corner of Chandler's mouth pulls up into an amused smirk. "Are you apologizing? I was actually going to agree to go on your stupid date, you big dope."

Joey's eyes go wide for a moment, then he's grinning like he's never been happier in his life and, okay, maybe Chandler can see himself falling for him. Just a little bit. Maybe. "Really?"

"Yeah, just try not to be too smug about it," Chandler drags out with a sigh. "But remember the rules: I pick the time, the place, you pay for everything, and if you kiss me or try to feel me up I'm kicking your ass."

Joey nods like an eager puppy. "Yeah, you got it! So, what'd you have in mind? Knicks game? A movie? Dinner?"

"Slow down, Joe. I gotta think about it. But how about tomorrow night, okay?"

Joey's smile says that he's completely okay with this.

#

The gang's at Central Perk the next afternoon when Phoebe sidles up to Joey from the counter, a cup of cocoa in her hands. "I think that girl's checking you out," she says, loud enough for Chandler to overhear at the table.

Joey turns his head in the direction that Phoebe's looking, and Chandler's eyes follow their line of sight. An ample-chested blonde's sitting at a table near the door, stirring her drink with a cinnamon stick and glancing at Joey underneath thick eyelashes. Chandler feels a pang of jealousy; he's going to die alone, but Joey's dance card is full up for the rest of eternity. It's hard not to be bitter, really.

Joey turns back to Phoebe, gives a small shrug. "Eh, I'm busy tonight."

Monica, Ross, Phoebe, and Rachel look at him as if he's just solved a really difficult math problem. Even Chandler's a little stunned. Joey Tribbiani doesn't refuse dates, especially not with gorgeous women like the one ogling him right now. But apparently turning down hot chicks in favor of Chandler is just a thing Joey does now.

"With what?" Ross asks, incredulous.

"Knowing Joey, it's probably another girl," Chandler cuts in.

Joey shoots him a look but doesn't say anything else. Chandler settles back into his chair and smiles wryly to himself.

#

"So, where're we goin' tonight?" Joey asks, all excitement and glee as he steps out of the shower that evening. Chandler feels a flush creep up his neck at the sight of Joey all half-naked and drippy, and he hates himself for it.

He flips to another channel on TV, trying to appear like he's not blushing. "You don't have to dress up or anything. We're just going out to eat."

"Should I wear the pants with the stretchy waist or not?"

He feels his gaze drawn to Joey's chest, and he struggles not to lick his lips. "It's a Chinese buffet—so, maybe."

Joey nods, considers that a moment before crossing in front of Chandler's line of sight to his room. Chandler watches the muscles in his back ripple before he closes the door behind him.

Fuck, is it happening? Is he starting to see Joey as more than just a friend now? Chandler grips his fingers into the armrest of his chair until he's disgusted with himself enough to shower.

#

The restaurant's only a few blocks away from their apartment, situated on the second floor above the bar. Chandler likes the dim, cozy atmosphere inside; most of the light comes from the neon signs above the sushi bar and the heat lamps over the buffet lines. The faint soundtrack piping through the speakers is all teenage angst and flannel shirts. There's a couple TVs mounted in the corners, displaying various sports games or prime-time shows, but Joey's attention is focused on Chandler—an impressive feat considering the pile of delicious food on the plate in front of him.

"How do you do that?" Joey asks, gesturing with his fork to the way Chandler's picking up a roll of sushi with chopsticks.

"I have the gift—and very thin, pianist-like fingers." Joey snorts a laugh into his glass of Coke. Chandler narrows his eyes. "I said _pianist_." Another laugh. Chandler just sighs, but he's sort of laughing too, because Joey is an absolute child sometimes. "Who decided to make those two words near indistinguishable?" He chuckles to himself, pauses as Joey's chewing a piece of chicken. "Although can you imagine that? I'm picturing some sort of Lovecraftian horror, and I can't take it seriously."

"You'd have to get hard to pick anything up," Joey says, his mouth half full. Chandler spurts out a laugh, flecks of rice scattering across the table; Joey examines one that's landed on the back of his hand before wiping it off.

"_Edward Scissorhands_ would have been a very different movie." Now they're both laughing, and Chandler doesn't even care how stupid this conversation is. As silly as it sounds, Joey is the sun of his life; he keeps the clouds away. Chandler can't—doesn't even _want_ to—imagine a day without him.

Their window seat has a pleasant, vivid view of the city, and Chandler can see the twinkling city lights outside, headlights of cars passing by in a slow crawl on the roads, neon signs and billboards adorning the buildings all around.

Joey shovels in another forkful of noodles, still chuckling because he's always the last one to let his laughter die down. "What is that?" he manages around a mouthful of lo mein, pointing with his fork at the neatly-arranged sushi rolls on Chandler's plate.

"Sushi." Joey makes a face. "It's good."

"It's raw fish," Joey says very judgementally.

Chandler frowns at Joey's disapproval with his dietary choices, though he remembers that Joey's more of a meat guy, and, wow, that's _so_ not the best way to phrase it. "It sounds gross, but it doesn't have to be. My favorite's the crab and shrimp." He picks up a roll and offers it to Joey, who frowns at it like it's personally offended him.

"What's that orange stuff on the top? Is that cheese?"

Chandler laughs. "No, but that would be kind of awesome. It's spicy mayonnaise. Dude, you like all of these things. Just try it." He places the roll on the edge of Joey's plate.

Joey prods at it with his fork like it might come to life before scooping it up and popping it into his mouth. He chews thoughtfully for a moment. "That's—whoa, that's really good!" He reaches for another roll off of Chandler's plate, and Chandler lets him because they're having a moment here. "Is that one chicken?"

"Y—yeah, yeah, it is," Chandler answers. It's actually eel, but there's no way he's telling Joey that. It sorta tastes like chicken anyway. "That's the unagi, and it usually comes with avocado, which I'm not a huge fan of."

"Yeah, you're weird like that," Joey grumbles around a bite of unagi.

"It makes my mouth itchy, okay?" Joey just huffs a laugh at that, and Chandler nudges another roll toward him. "This one's deep-fried and really spicy."

"There's nothin' gross in it, is there?"

"Nothin' you wouldn't find in the ones you've already eaten."

Joey finds this acceptable. "I'm eatin' all your food," he says with a hint of remorse.

Chandler scoffs. "It's a buffet. I'll just go get more." He starts working on the pile of noodles on his plate, effortlessly twisting them around the chopsticks. Joey watches in awe.

"Are you some kind of wizard?"

"We're not having this discussion again," Chandler says with a smirk.

#

They walk home after dinner, engrossed in their light conversation and the sparkle of the city. Joey may or may not be attempting to hold Chandler's hand, but Chandler's not letting him because this is absolutely not a date. Although, if it were it'd be the best date Chandler's ever had in his life. He hasn't felt nervous or been too embarrassed when his jokes fall flat or when he says the wrong thing. Joey could be the best thing for him if he'd let this happen.

When they make it back to the apartment, Chandler chuckles to himself as he fumbles for his key. "So, I guess this is the part of the date where you try to get me into bed?" he teases.

"Only if they want to," Joey says with sad eyes, and Chandler feels bad for the joke now. He looks away, tries to rub away the flush creeping up the back of his neck. "I won't do anything you're not comfortable with, remember?"

Chandler nods, because Joey's wonderful about that—he hasn't pushed for anything all evening. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and gives Joey a half-smile. "Does that include kissing?"

Joey nods, misunderstanding Chandler's question. "Yeah, if you don't want to, that's—"

Chandler's shaking his head. "That was me asking you to kiss me." Then, he adds: "I mean, we might as well try it, right?"

Joey parts his lips a little, steps closer, and Chandler instinctually backs away. He winces when his shoulder presses into the doorframe. "If you don't wanna do this, we don't have to," Joey reminds him, probably intimidated by Chandler's reaction.

Chandler shakes his head, folds his fingers around the edges of Joey's jacket. "No, it's okay. I—I want to." Joey studies Chandler's expression for a moment, waiting to see if it's _really_ okay before he leans in and presses their mouths together. Chandler doesn't know what to do next, because he's never kissed another guy before and doesn't know if the rules are different. Oh God, are there actually rules?

He just tightens his fingers where they're gripped in Joey's jacket and pushes his mouth a little harder into the kiss; Joey's mouth is warm and soft, and Chandler likes the way it feels against his own. Joey hums in approval and lays his hands on either side of Chandler's face. Joey doesn't open his mouth, just keeps everything relatively chaste; Chandler feels like an awkward teenager all over again.

Chandler's watching Joey when he pulls away. Joey's wearing a look of confusion, like he desperately wants to know the thoughts in Chandler's head right now. "Was that...was that okay?"

Chandler licks his lips, nods slowly, though he's still trying to figure out this whole attraction to Joey. It's still new enough that the kiss feels sort of weird, but there's a part of him that thinks he could get used to it. "Y—yeah, it was...it was nice."

"That good, huh?"

"What?"

"Well, you're usually really good with words, so if all you can say is it was 'nice,' then..." He shrugs, lets that sentence trail off.

Chandler folds his arms over his chest. "Yeah, well, maybe I'm _so_ good with words that 'nice' is the perfect way to describe it!" 

"So you liked it?"

Chandler huffs in irritation and looks away. "Yeah, I did." He really wishes his cheeks weren't so red. "And maybe—maybe I could like _you_ that way, y'know? Maybe." Chandler can't help but look at Joey's face when he says that, just to gauge his reaction, because he's still not totally sure that Joey didn't go out with him tonight as an act of pity.

But Joey's grinning at him without a trace of pity. He also looks a little stunned, like he'd never once thought that Chandler might genuinely like him. He takes an abortive step toward Chandler. "Can I kiss you again?"

Chandler can't help but smile. "Yeah, go ahead."

Their second kiss is all heat and gratitude, and Joey sort of shoves him up against the door, his hands pushing through Chandler's hair before he forces himself to stop. Chandler just stares at him, his mouth agape, because, wow, Joey is an amazing kisser.

"Maybe we should, um, y'know, go inside," Chandler whispers, motioning to the door behind them.

"Yeah, good idea."

Maybe Chandler's not going to be alone forever after all.


End file.
